


Indefinite

by haldolhs



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Masturbation, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:50:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4177071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haldolhs/pseuds/haldolhs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian finds himself possessed of strange and curious new appetites.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indefinite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Piscaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piscaria/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Thing With Feathers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185176) by [Piscaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piscaria/pseuds/Piscaria). 



There were no last directives from his young master tonight, and none of his typical reminders about tomorrow’s preparations. Uttering no words at all, his lord spared Sebastian not even a second glance as he climbed into bed, closing his eyes before Sebastian drew the bedclothes over his stock-still form and up to his slim shoulders. _“Hurry up and go away,”_ Ciel’s tense body screamed, and on a previous night Sebastian might have lingered, might have prompted a frosty glare from those resolutely closed eyes with a gleeful and inane query about his lord’s preference for the next morning’s tea, might have taken pleasure in deepening the itch of the boy’s anticipation which all but crackled in the electrified silence of the chill bedchamber.

On a previous night . . . but their game had changed since Ciel had shattered free from the poison-induced prison of his own mind yesterday. Now, the old rules read blurry, and Sebastian felt the hard definitions of his cast role cracking and threatening to crumble.

Resisting a most peculiar, aching urge to smooth a lock of dark hair from his master’s flushed brow, Sebastian straightened at the bedside and allowed himself a brief moment to relive the wonder of being immersed within Ciel yesterday when he’d attempted to terrify the boy out of his crippling catatonia with the threat of concluding their contract. He’d expected to chase Ciel back into reality, screaming, and he’d steeled himself for the inevitable consequences rendered by his utter and violent invasion of Ciel—body, mind and soul. Ciel’s trust in him would instantly degrade from tenuous to nonexistent, Sebastian knew. Afterwards, his master would most certainly fear and loathe him. Months of training Finnian to become a proper valet loomed on the horizon while Tanaka assumed those duties in the interim, for Ciel would abhor Sebastian’s touch—he would shudder to even look at him.

Instead, it had been Ciel who had chased _him_ back into reality, screaming Sebastian’s name as he ripped himself out the restraining mental grips of guilt and ghosts, begging Sebastian not to leave him as he ran full-bore out of his past and flung himself at his demon.

The moment Ciel’s soul collided with his had been exquisite. The connection was like nothing Sebastian ever experienced before, and he felt . . . he _felt._ And now, although nothing had outwardly changed between them, the cord of their bond felt twice as thick and infinitely stronger.

Everything was _different._ Indefinite. Black and white had blurred to shades of grey . . . and while the ache of Sebastian’s constant, gnawing hunger was as deep and damning as ever, he now found himself possessed of strange and curious new appetites that clamored for more than Ciel’s soul.

With his own sense of mounting anticipation, Sebastian silently withdrew the flickering flames from the candlewicks and quickly took leave of his master’s darkened bedchamber. He shut the door quietly behind him and made haste to the relative privacy of a darkened alcove just around the corner from Ciel’s room. There were far too many such niches in this old, German castle for Sebastian’s liking. Far too many places for the untoward to lurk and listen, he thought, frowning as he ensconced himself in concealing shadow.

Closing his eyes, Sebastian reached out with his consciousness beyond the confines of his human façade to connect with that physical sliver of himself Ciel had carried back from the forest earlier tonight and had, for some most curious reason, secreted away beneath his pillow.

His master possessed a single black feather that had been sheared from Sebastian by a werewolf’s claw during a vulnerable moment when he’d reached deep within himself for a boost of strength and the power to heal his gravely wounded human visage. It had been unnecessary and foolish to not have simply loosed the demon from the façade, thus unleashing the whole of his power and fury upon the beasts that attacked them, but, now more than ever, he felt loath to appear anything more or less than human within sight of Ciel. That bit of vanity had nearly cost him much more than a feather that shouldn’t be . . . a feather that _wouldn’t_ be if Sebastian hadn’t sensed its presence tucked safely within the inside pocket of Ciel’s overcoat as he carried his lord out of the forest and back to the castle. Even then, the urge to reduce the feather to ether and recall that bit of his essence back to himself had been strong. It wasn’t prudent, after all, to leave bits of oneself lying about, and no demon worth his salt would ever render himself so vulnerable as to leave a splinter of his soul in the possession of another.

Curiosity had bested Sebastian’s sensibility. Ciel was maddeningly unpredictable. His skills of cunning and manipulation nearly rivaled Sebastian’s own, and he couldn’t allow the boy to lure him into complacency with a sudden subtle but apparent deepening of his trust and regard, lest he be woefully surprised should the smug little imp secretly harbor hostility over Sebastian’s threatening to “eat” him yesterday . . . even though Ciel well knew better. It had been out of character, indeed, the way Ciel had clung to him so possessively tonight as they’d made their way back to the castle, repeatedly demanding reassurance of Sebastian’s well-being as his hands boldly explored the bared flesh of Sebastian’s back beneath the shredded ruins of his clothing, searching for injury . . . and, Sebastian supposed, for evidence of wings.

With his heightened intelligence and intuition, had his young master surmised the significance of the feather’s physical manifestation? Sebastian wasn’t fool enough to believe mere sentimentality had prompted Ciel to fish it out of the gore and then carry such a filthy thing on his person. Whether or not Ciel knew he had in his possession a sliver of his demon’s essence, Sebastian felt it would be of benefit to know his young master’s intentions.

Sebastian reached, his consciousness flowing through the hollow shaft of the plume and stretching through every fiber of the feather which was no longer tucked beneath a pillow, but was being stroked with exquisite reverence by Ciel’s gentle fingers.

_What is this?_ Sebastian thought with awed surprise as his awareness registered Ciel’s warm breath and the silken softness of his lips brushing over first one vane and then the other. He’d expected . . . he’d expected he didn’t know what. Dissection, perhaps. He’d been fully prepared to discover his lord attempting to use the feather like a voodoo doll—to see him tear off a barb and then cock his head as he listened for a distant yowl of pain. But this . . . this was beyond anything Sebastian had dared consider, although he had, perhaps, hoped.

Such strange and curious things, his new appetites, and how perfectly delicious to discover similar cravings awakening simultaneously within his young master. How absolutely _tantalizing_ to hear his name tumble from Ciel’s panted breath as he tickled Sebastian’s feather over the growing length of his thickening arousal. How tempting the idea of drawing all of his essence to the part of him which fluttered over that pretty, stiffening cock and materializing whole above his lord, where he could then proceed to assuage his young master’s hunger properly . . .

Within the shadow of the alcove, Sebastian groaned as he withdrew from the feather. Physical desire pulsed unbidden between his thighs, and although he knew this lack of control over his human form should both alarm and enrage him, he felt . . . he _felt._ And wasn’t that a wonder?

_Ciel . . ._ Sebastian swallowed hard and willed away the throbbing nuisance between his legs. Now wasn’t the time . . . but time was something Sebastian had in abundance. He could afford to be patient. Ciel would come to him when he was ready, Sebastian knew. After all, when had his young master ever denied himself anything he wanted?

In the meanwhile, Sebastian supposed there was no harm in allowing Ciel to keep his feather.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Remix Redux 15: The Dirty Dozen. This story is a remix of Piscaria's fantastic story "The Thing With Feathers." Yes, I know I didn't do her excellent work justice, but, in my defense, Piscaria's just simply too phenomenal a writer. Thanks for talking me into this, Pisca. It was a huge honor to play in your sandbox.


End file.
